Monthly Archives: May 2005

Obscenity Crimes on Campus

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Note:  I wrote this Friday afternoon, and then lost my internet connection.  I saved it, and thus am publishing a rare Saturday post.  (Hence the Friday date at the top.)

This morning, I noticed several "hits" to this site coming from Obscenity Crimes, the anti-pornography arm of the conservative Morality in Media organization.  Specifically, the hits came from an article by Sharon Secor entitled New Lows in Higher Education which linked to this March post of mine where I debated whether or not to offer a course on pornography.

Secor, in breathless prose, reports that American college campuses are filled with the decadent young who produce their own pornography, mentioning in particular Boink Magazine (link may offend some readers) which has just seen its second issue produced by students at Boston University.  Secor suggests that the students are only following their professors’ encouragement:

"That students are willing to participate in the production of pornography shouldn’t be too surprising in light of both our culture and the types of accredited college courses that have sprung up on campuses from coast to coast. Recent years have seen such offerings as the Wesleyan University class –discontinued after a public outcry – in which the final project, according to a May 8, 1999, Hartford Courant story by Eric Rich, required students to create their own work of pornography. An October 2001, Accuracy in Academia article by Joe Jablonski described a San Francisco State University course “which seeks to introduce them to the world of the Internet’s sexual underground. Students actually learn how to navigate the underworld of cybersex and get a guided tour through the world of porn sites.”

What Secor doesn’t mention is that most college classes that focus on pornography and erotica don’t focus on viewing and creating explicit material.  Rather, they focus on critical analyses of the historic and contemporary role of pornography in human culture, focusing on (depending on the instructor) a variety of different perspectives (feminist, Marxist, film studies, etcetera.)   Lots of folks who teach these classes use texts like Lynn Hunt’s magisterial The Invention of Pornography, 1500-1800: Obscenity and the Origins of Modernity.   The human libido expresses itself in many and varied ways, but I’ve read Hunt cover to cover and I challenge anyone to find anything remotely arousing within its 400 pages.  Yes, it fits Secor’s agenda to pretend that these courses are taught by the irresponsible, the libertine, and the lecherous to the immature, the impressionable, and the horny!  Alas, Ms. Secor, a review of the syllabi of most courses on pornography at the college and university levels will reveal oodles of theory and precious few "dirty pictures."

Secor’s article also touches on the growing number of sex columns appearing in college newspapers nationwide.  She decries columns like Heather Grantham’s "Cornellingus" (not hard to guess the Ivy League university in whose paper that appears), and points out that dozens of other colleges have had explicit "sex columns" for years.  I’m told that UCSB — where my father has taught for four decades — was the pioneer in this field with its "Wednesday Hump" column.  (If any readers have contrary information, please provide.)  My own Pasadena City College has entered the sex advice world as well this semester, with our new "Sexpert".  (This week’s topic: straight men and anal sex; some readers of this blog may not wish to click the link.) 

By mixing together three only marginally related developments (the academic study of porn, student involvement in producing amateur pornography, and graphic advice columns in campus newspapers), Secor is failing to make some vital distinctions.  There’s a difference between teaching courses to educate, producing porn to titillate, and writing columns to infuriate! Though I am not, for the reasons I’ve given before, ready at this time to teach a class on pornography, I do think it a subject very much worth the time and attention of the academy, particularly from those of us who teach and write from a feminist perspective.  As far as the student production of porn (e.g. Boink Magazine) is concerned, I think there’s an enormous difference between erotica that is student-produced and distributed and porn that is produced by off-campus commercial entities using students as actors and performers.  Agency matters a great deal, and students are, I think, far less likely to be the victims of commercial exploitation when they are in charge of all the artistic and production decisions.  Of course, I see no reason why those students who do not wish to subsidize the creation of campus erotica ought to have to subsidize it with their fees.

As for the columns themselves, from what I can tell, they are a mixed bag.  Few are genuinely educational.  Most, and I think this certainly describes our own rather feeble effort at PCC, seem to be written more to infuriate conservative readers than to enlighten curious members of the student body!  Given the ubiquitousness of thoughtful, sound advice on the Internet about sex, it’s not as if many of today’s college students are likely to become better lovers as a consequence of reading these columns.  The raison d’etre of all of this seems to be the delight in tweaking the blue noses of the likes of Sharon Secor and Morality in Media.  Developmentally, that makes sense; I expect 20 year-olds to take genuine pleasure in horrifying their elders. 

I’m convinced that porn studies, as a field, will continue to grow.  As pornography, in all its many and varied forms, continues to exert a powerful influence upon our culture, examining it is worth our professional time and our intellectual energy. As we continue to talk more and more about the subject, some students might well be inspired to produce their own pornography; others might just as well be inspired to campaign against the commercial sex industry.  If I ever do teach a course on porn, I’ll be scrupulous about attempting to observe the distinction between education and titillation, recognizing that different folks will perceive different material in different ways. But if some students do seek to produce their own erotic material, as an amateur and authentic counterbalance to the glut of commercialized pornography, I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing.  And if some want to infuriate and exasperate their elders with graphic columns in campus papers, those of us old enough to know a little better ought not to take the eagerly proffered bait.

But the hits they keep on coming.

Instant adventurers and the need for community

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Jonathan Dresner sent me this link to a story in yesterday’s New York Times: The Now or Never Athlete.  It’s an article about the phenomenon of "instant adventurers", folks who suddenly decide, often after years of sloth, to wake up one morning and train for an extreme endurance event like the 135-mile Badwater Race.

Casual athletes, if athletes at all, they suddenly vault from a lifetime of sporadic workouts to the workout of a lifetime. The adventures vary: summiting Mount Everest, swimming the English Channel, dog-racing the Iditarod. But the instant adventurers don’t; they are normal people who unexpectedly fixate on one of the world’s most grueling challenges.

"This year I bet I had five people contact me who’d never done anything like this in their lives," said Lisa Smith-Batchen of Victor, Idaho, an ultramarathoner and online coach who caters to novices. She has observed such a surge in first-timers that she calls her business Dreamchasers. Despite how often their sanity is questioned, these amateurs tend to be successful, focused people who feel they have mastered every other aspect of their lives – career, relationships, parenthood – only to discover their last unconquered frontier is the one they have carried around since birth: their bodies.

"From a psychological perspective, these are actually very healthy people," said Dr. Andrew Lovy, a psychiatrist in Mesa, Ariz., who also runs in ultramarathons. "You can’t wake up Monday as a novice and do the Iditarod on Tuesday. But you can wake up Monday and say, ‘I think I’ll start training for the Iditarod on Tuesday.’ That’s excellent; you’re not letting someone else define your limits or capabilities."

This is not a conventional midlife crisis, Dr. Lovy said. It is more a midlife convergence of heightened confidence, disposable income and a taste for travel.

"They’re at the top of their game," he said, "and what they want is an extraordinary achievement which will help define them."

Hmm.  Here’s where I’m going to get snippy.  I’ve been working out regularly for well over a decade, since making a decision in 1992 to start exercising (a resolution I’ve managed to keep, remarkably enough).  I didn’t run my first marathon until 1998, didn’t do my first ultra-marathon until 2003, didn’t do my first century ride until 2004.  Unlike these instant adventurers, I’ve built up my training very slowly. 

I’ve met these instant adventurers before, out on the trails as they train for their first 100-miler (having never completed anything longer than a 10K).  I’ll be the first to admit I have tremendous admiration for their focus and dedication.  But I also am bothered by the fact that their devotion is, as the article says, about "an extraordinary achievement that will help define them."  There’s a level of narcissism there that I find troubling.

To be fair, as my friends, family, and readers will at once point out, I have an unhealthy narcissistic streak all my own.  But unlike the instant adventurers, my friends and I who marathon and ultra (those are both verbs in our circle) don’t merely do so to prove something to ourselves and to other people.  We run as part of a community, understanding that training and competing is not about individual achievement so much as it is about creating a close-knit tribe of fellow endurance enthusiasts who will support each other through the highs and lows of not only athletics, but of life itself. 

No one I run with sets their sights on one enormous event,  We’re training to run for the rest of our lives, two or three long distance races a year with a smattering of shorter ones.  We train to keep our bodies fit, we train to find spiritual respite from the cares of the world, but we also train together because we see what we do as a communal, group activity.  In my group, there is relatively little talk of PRs (personal records), though most of us will happily share our best times if asked.  When we train, we’re more likely to talk about our relationships, our families, our pets, our careers, and our faiths than we are to endlessly discuss our next big event.

I’ve seen marriages fall apart over the kind of obsessiveness I read about in the Times story.  There’s a fine line between being really, really fit and being absolutely nutty, and I’ve seen lots of people cross it over the years.  In my early years of working out, when I battled with exercise anorexia (and yes, that was an actual diagnosis), my weight plummeted to 145 pounds. (I’m 180 now, and feel just fine at that weight, thanks.)  I lost the ability to think about anything other than eating (or more accurately, not eating) and training.  My relationships with everyone suffered.

Most of the folks mentioned in the Times article took up their athletic quests in the aftermath of personal tragedy: a divorce, a death of a loved one, a job loss, September 11.  It’s true that many of us who become distance runners first take up the sport after a loss.  We want to reassert some control over our lives because external circumstances have made our lives seem very chaotic indeed.  But sooner or later, we’re going to have to find another reason to run and train, or we’ll give it up altogether.  The drive to prove something is ultimately, I think, a short-lived one.  Successful training has to be about more than showing the world (and oneself) that one can master one’s own flesh; it’s ultimately a way of life that needs to be about connecting to others, to nature, and to the spiritual.

Then again, maybe I’m just envious.  Between my obligations at home, my teaching,  my volunteer work, my blogging, our new chinchilla rescue charity, and so on, I’m not willing to put in the time to train for one of the really long events.  Most of the folks in my running group have families, and they are not willing to sacrifice time with their kids for private glory. At this stage in my life, my plate is too full — and I’m just not willing to sacrifice other aspects of my life in order to complete one of the truly long events.  For now, 26.2 will have to be a sufficient distance.  But yes, I do fantasize about the "big ones", and perhaps, perhaps, I’ll turn my attention towards them someday soon,

Calvin, Bush, and Hugo on being an evangelical

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Jesse at Pandagon linked to this interesting bit of news: President Bush will deliver the commencement address this Sunday at Calvin College, one of the flagship schools of evangelical higher education.  Along with Wheaton in Illinois, and perhaps Westmont here in California, and a couple of other places, Calvin is one of the "Christian Ivies", a school that combines passionate Christian commitment with first-rate scholarship.   

According to this story in the Detroit News, Calvin College is not safe ground for President Bush.  Contrary to the media’s depiction of evangelical Christians as monolithically Republican and supporters of the administration, more than 100 Calvin faculty (that’s a lot at a small liberal arts college) signed

..an open letter of rebuke to the president that’s scheduled to appear as a half-page ad in the Grand Rapids Press on the day of the president’s speech.

While welcoming the president, the letter delivers a carefully worded critique of administration policies from a Christian viewpoint. It calls the Iraq war "unjust and unjustified," expresses dismay at policies that "favor the wealthy … and burden the poor," challenges policies of intolerance toward dissent, and environmental policies that are at odds with being "caretakers of God’s good creation." The letter is one way to register the fact that even in the heart of Christian America, religion does not dictate politics. It reminds Americans that even at a conservative Christian school, where religious values are paramount, people have different social, political and cultural views.

Here’s today’s Detroit Free Press story.  Amen.  One of my friends and heroes, Richard Mouw, president of Fuller Seminary, taught at Calvin for 17 years.  He’s part of a long tradition of evangelicals with progressive commitments and Calvin connections going back at least as far as the Evangelicals for McGovern campaign of 1972.

I often identify myself on this blog as an evangelical, which leads some folks to wonder what it is, exactly, about my faith and my views that qualifies me to use that (admittedly ambiguous) term.  I call myself an evangelical because I love Jesus.  I don’t love Him because He was a great teacher, or a brave and dedicated fighter for social justice.  He was those things, but I believe Jesus is the Savior, one who died to save me and countless others from death and despair and emptiness.  I’ve come to believe that He — and He alone — gives me the "power for a new life".  I believe that the Scriptures contain the unique record of Jesus’ teaching and ministry, and I believe that in the broad sense of the terms, the Bible is both infallible and inerrant.  (Click here for a good, thoughtful definition of those terms.)  I call myself an evangelical because I agree with the bulk of the content of the Lausanne and Chicago declarations — which come as close to anything as defining what it is to be a progressive evangelical.

I’m conscious that I’m still on a journey. I’m still, chronologically speaking, a fairly new Christian.  My faith has waxed and waned since the first time I accepted Jesus Christ.  I’ve been "born again" more than once, in some sense, because I’ve fallen and repented and fallen and repented many, many times.  I’ve switched churches several times, and felt "tugged" by my friends to my theological left and my theological right, both sets of whom seem to have more consistency than I!  But the great blessing of my adulthood is that even in my failings and my shortcomings, I’ve never lost the certainty that God is faithful, faithful to me and to all of His people, many of whom worship Him by different names.

And when I read about those faculty, staff, and students who are peacefully and politely protesting the president, I’m reminded once more that even in a progressive Episcopal church, I am right to call myself an evangelical.

Wrapping up “Sex, All Saints Style”

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Last night, we had our fourth and final evening of "Sex, All Saints Style" with our kids at youth group.  Again, our turnout was high, which was very gratifying.

Our topic for this final week was "sex and spirituality."  Of course, as far as we’re concerned, all of the material that we’ve presented over the past three sessions has had a spiritual dimension.  But last night, we wanted to probe a little deeper with our teens.  We began by asking them a question:  "What do you think is the spiritual meaning of sex?"  They were quiet.  A group that a week or two ago had blithely and cheerfully talked about oral sex was — predictably — stumped by a question that asked them to reflect on something relatively profound.  After a few minutes, a few brave souls began to volunteer:  "Sex is designed to help us draw closer to another person."  "Sex is a symbol of complete unity with the one you love".

We praised their answers, and then took a break to show them a short film.  The Nooma project is a series of short (10-11 minute) and recent (2002) films by Christian evangelist Rob Bell.  We showed the second film in the series, "Flame".  In it, Bell slowly drives and walks towards an enormous pile of wood, which he will eventually set alight, all the while talking about the various Hebrew words for love and sex.  (A transcript, with pictures, is available in a PDF file here.) The language is non-judgmental; Bell never explicitly says "Don’t have sex outside of marriage."   He does say, quite clearly and compellingly, that God intended sex to be extraordinary, and he intended sex to be a union of not only two bodies, but of all three kinds of love that the Old Testament speaks of:  "raya" (strong friendship), "ahava" (enduring commitment), "dod" (sexual passion).   

Our kids watched with interest, but some were clearly uncomfortable.  A couple of the older girls remarked that what Bell was talking about was not the way sex had to be for young people.  While Bell’s video suggests that "dod" (the syllable is long, apparently, rhymes with "load") ought to be built on a foundation of "raya" and "ahava", a couple of our teens suggested that a relationship that began with "dod" could eventually blossom into one with the other qualities.  They insisted that it was perfectly possible, even common, for high-school relationships to begin with "hook-ups" and prosper into lasting, loving, commitments.  Other kids disagreed, as did some of the adults, and for a moment, we were in danger of sinking into the wretched world of warring anecdotes.

Fortunately, we pulled out of that trap.  We were able to address a very common adolescent misconception, however: the notion that experience is the best teacher.  Several of the kids talked about the importance (one even used the phrase "spiritual importance") of having lots of sexual experience in order to grow as a person.  It’s a common modern argument, and one I’ve addressed at length in this old post.    We pointed out to the kids that there’s no evidence that those who are promiscuous as youth have more successful relationships as adults, something one would expect to find if "experience" really were that salutatory.  Drawing on my own experience I reminded them of something I wrote in that December post:

In a different context, Yeats remarked that "too much suffering makes a stone of the heart."  He was right.  It has taken so much work for me to heal the literal and figurative scar tissue from unnecessary injuries I inflicted on myself.  The more I "did", the less I cared about those around me. Whatever little compassion or tenderness you see in me was and is a gift from God, not the consequence of living too much and too hard.

I actually got a bit emotional as I talked about getting ready for what will be my fourth marriage.  I told the kids that not only had I had to do a colossal amount of work to overcome the self-inflicted wounds of my past, but I’ve also had to ask my fiancee to cope with the prospect of Hugo being her first husband — and she becoming his fourth wife.  Only a remarkably trusting, forgiving, and spiritually strong woman of God would be willing to take me on, with all my baggage!  (And believe me, I’ve worked hard to dump as much of that baggage as humanly possible, and with God’s grace, my hard work, and my fiancee’s support, miracles have happened there.)   

On this subject, I briefly told the kids about my friend "Mike."  Mike and I are the same age.  We’re "gym buddies"  and fellow marathoners/ultra-runners, and I’ve known him for years.  Mike has been married to the same woman for over two decades.  He and his wife gave each other their virginity all those years ago, and have remained faithful ever since.  Mike and I have compared notes over the years.  We don’t talk much in terms of vulgar details, but we do share a mutual fascination with each other’s lives, because our experiences have been so different.  And though Mike might be a bit titillated by the details of my past, he wouldn’t trade places with me for anything.  I, on the other hand, am deeply envious of Mike.  I accept my past for what it is, I don’t shame it.  But I also know that when it comes to the tools of adult living, when it comes to knowing what makes a marriage work, Mike knows a hell of a lot more than I do.  His different experiences with one woman trump all of my past identical experiences with different women.  Only now, as I move towards marriage with my amazing, challenging, patient and persistent fiancee, am I getting a glimpse of what Mike has known for a long time.  The kids were very silent as I told them this, but I could see their faces — and I’d like to believe some of what I was saying sunk in.

Ultimately, we brought the conversation back to God.  (Some of my readers are most relieved to learn that!)  Though the youth leaders openly — and lovingly –disagree even with each other about whether or not any high school kids are truly ready for sexual activity, we all agreed on this:  as a church community, we want the best for our kids.  And we don’t want the good to be the enemy of the best.  We told them that they, our precious, beautiful, challenging, extraordinary teenagers, deserve to experience all the joys God wants them to experience.   We told the kids we won’t condemn any decision any one of them makes sexually; we reminded them that we will listen lovingly and supportingly to whatever it is that they have to tell us.   But we want them to remember that sometimes, their hearts and their bodies will lie to them  by promising that immediate gratification will bring enduring reward.  We want them to remember, as Bell points out, that the biggest and hottest burning bonfires take a long time to build.

Our fourth and final night of "sex, All Saints style" came to an end with a prayer circle and lots of hugs.  We still have some "kinks" in the program we might need to work out.  (For example, having frosh and seniors in the same discussion sometimes leads to the seniors, who naturally tend to be more experienced, dominating the discussion.  We may have to break kids up by age group in the future.)   Because even our youth leaders don’t all agree completely on issues of sexual ethics, it’s clear that we adults can benefit from continued dialogue within the church community about what it is that we want our kids to learn.  But we did exciting work this past month, and I’m so grateful to have been a part of it.

Thursday Short Poem: Justice’s Men at Forty

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I’ll be 38 on Sunday, and I realize that though I’ve quoted the opening stanza of this Donald Justice poem, I haven’t had the whole thing up.

Men at Forty

Men at forty
Learn to close softly
The doors to rooms they will not be
Coming back to.

At rest on a stair landing,
They feel it moving
Beneath them now like the deck of a ship,
Though the swell is gentle.

And deep in mirrors
They rediscover
The face of the boy as he practices tying
His father’s tie there in secret,

And the face of that father,
Still warm with the mystery of lather.
They are more fathers than sons themselves now.
Something is filling them, something

That is like the twilight sound
Of the crickets, immense,
Filling the woods at the foot of the slope
Behind their mortgaged houses.

I love this line:

Something is filling them, something

That is like the twilight sound
Of the crickets, immense…

I know what that means now, thank God, thank God.

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More on older men and younger women, a long response to “Kate”

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I got a very interesting e-mail last week from a young woman whom I’ll call "Kate" (not her real name):

I am 17 years old…and I googled "Older Men, Younger Women" because I am attracted to older men and I feel alone in my peer group (despite my many good friends and wonderful family). I was thankful to find your post. So many things you touched on are things that I feel. But I also felt abnormal and ridiculous for having the feelings I do. Although I am young, I suppose am one of those girls you described, "…those who appear outwardly fully adult may still be in need of our care and protection." I am in every way mature. I feel more comfortable with adults than I do with my own peers thus the need for more attention from the more mature male. Having said that, I want you to know, I am a good girl. I know right from wrong…and these attractions I have for older men always stay platonic—-mostly because I’m attracted to the men who are safe. But sometimes it pains me because I feel like I’m building such awesome relationships that when I become legal, or more eligible to date older men, they won’t see me like that. At that point, I get upset and I feel so rejected before anything even began. This usually happens in the school atmosphere because there are many male teachers. So many of them seem wonderful because of the teenage boy scum I go to school with. You touched on that too–the obvious attraction girls have because the older male is (hopefully) well spoken and has a wealth of knowledge and experience…verses the teenage male who is not any of those things.

I hope this e-mail makes sense…it’s so late and I am confused by my feelings. My mother knows how I feel about older men–and she said she expected it because I am so mature mentally, emotionally and yes…physically. I want to be seen and appreciated by men…and for the most part I am–and I have been for a long time. It is getting to the point, however, when I want things to progress and they just can’t. Then I don’t know how to behave and I just want to crawl out of the hole they call high school and just exist in this world without my age tattooed on my forehead.
Anyway, as much as your post made me feel slightly exposed, it was comforting because you seem to know the inner-working of the young female mind. So, thank you for that. And if you could extend some advice or something, I would appreciate it. I apologize if this is scatter brained…again, it’s late, and I’m a bit nervous e-mailing someone and pouring out all these intimate details—but I wouldn’t have done it if I thought couldn’t help me sort things out a bit.

I asked Kate if I could respond via a post, and I’m afraid I haven’t heard back from her.  Given that her e-mail contains nothing that could identify her, I’m going to assume it’s okay to respond publicly.

I just checked on Google, and this post is the #8 ranked site for the query "older men, younger women."  Who knew?

Kate’s e-mail really challenged me.  In that January post, I laid out what I believe is a fairly compelling argument for older men to avoid romantic and sexual relationships with much younger women.  I was fairly clear that I wasn’t worried about women in their thirties dating men in their fifties; I was more concerned about young women in their late teens and early twenties dating men eight or more years older than themselves. 

But yet, where does that caution leave the Kates of the world?  If I can take Kate at her word, she’s an unusually mature teenager.  She’s still got plenty of growing up to do, as even the most sophisticated of youth do, but she’s probably right when she says that she’s significantly ahead of many of her peers.  Obviously, she’s still a minor, and she recognizes that she’s not yet "legal".  But next year, when she’s 18?  What then?  If all older men scrupulously avoid dating young women Kate’s age, whom is Kate supposed to date who meets her intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and yes, physical needs? I don’t think all teenage boys are "scum", mind you.  (My men’s rights advocate critics might suspect that I harbor that conviction).  But I’m aware that many young women, like Kate, mature at a much faster rate than their male peers.  It’s going to be difficult for her to find a real equal among young men her age, and I’d be giving her unrealistic advice if I told her that there were large numbers of mature, sensible, emotionally grounded and wise 18 year-old men running around.  That doesn’t mean that such fellas don’t exist, just that they aren’t plentiful!

I think there’s a colossal difference between an 18 year-old woman dating, say, a 30-something man she met at church or through friends and dating a 30-something teacher.  Leaving aside the question of professional ethics (something that the teacher ought never leave aside), a relationship that begins with an obvious asymmetry in terms of direct power is, I think, almost always a profoundly unhealthy experience for both parties involved.   But if Kate (once she’s 18) wants to date an older man who has no direct responsibility for her academic development or emotional well-being, what then?  Does an age gap of ten, twelve, even twenty years or more inherently constitute an unhealthily asymmetrical relationship in terms of power?  Frankly, I think it depends entirely on the two people involved, simply because I know too well just how different  18 year-olds (and some 35 year-olds, for that matter) are from each other.  A hard and fast rule, as it were, simply won’t suffice.

Here’s a section of what I wrote in January:
If I were to flirt back, or if I were to date a student, I am convinced I would send a devastating message about  what older men "really" want.   Young women need older men in their lives who will respect and care about them, who aren’t their fathers or brothers but who aren’t prospective lovers, either.  They need to know that they bring more to the table than their sexuality.  They need to be seen as complete human beings.  Paradoxically, seeing young women as complete human beings means that in actions, words, and yes, even in thought, older men cannot see them as objects of sexual desire.  That doesn’t mean that we (older guys) shouldn’t acknowledge that younger women are sexual creatures.  But we must (and the burden is on us alone here, fellas) love them with radical unselfishness,and that requires that we ourselves always refrain from sexualizing them. 

I still stand by that.  But I wrote those words not just as a man in his late thirties, but as a teacher and a youth worker.  I see teenagers and young adults through the eyes of my profession and my avocation.  I’ve known for years that I was called to work with young people, and as a result, I value my role as a mentor and (sometimes) a "father figure".  In my work as a professor and church group leader, it’s absolutely vital that I never, ever, sexualize the young women with whom I work.  It’s essential that I keep firm boundaries in place, the kind that allow young people to trust me.

But in my customary enthusiasm, I took a code of ethics that applies to me personally (and one I had to grow into) and offered it up as a standard for all "older men."  Obviously, most men my age don’t do the work I do.  Most men in their thirties and forties don’t spend both their days (and often, their nights and weekends) with teenagers and young adults to whom they aren’t related.  And I’m not sure it’s reasonable to ask all men to refrain from exploring romantic relationships with women who are significantly younger.  And Kate’s letter reminds me that it’s even more unreasonable to ask all young women (provided they are legally adults) only to date men who are no more than five years older than themselves.

I’ve seen many, many disastrous relationships between young women and much older men.  But to be honest, I’ve also seen a few such relationships that were marvelous, sparkling, honest, mutually rewarding, and long-lasting.  I think such relationships are uncommon, often because so many of the older men who do date much younger women are struggling with their own issues, issues that an older woman would challenge them to confront but a younger girl might not recognize.  And of course, more than a few young women do have unresolved issues with their fathers that they seek to play out in a relationship with an older man.

But these are generalities that do not apply in every instance, as Kate (and others) have reminded me in the months since my post on the subject.  So, to conclude this long post, here’s the best advice I can give to Kate:

I understand that it’s not easy to be where you are, caught between adolescence and adulthood.  17 is rarely easy for the bright, the gifted, the mature, the one who isn’t thrilled by all that high school society has to offer!  It’s natural and normal to want to be seen and appreciated by men, and to be appreciated for all that you have to give.  Please know that your teachers, if they love their profession and genuinely care about you, ought not only not act on any feelings they may develop for you, they ought not even make you aware of them.  That’s not about infantilizing you, it’s about honoring the very special

trust that ought to exist between a teaching professional who loves teens and the students who rely upon him.

But Kate, I do think it’s possible that in the years to come, you will find older men to date who aren’t in a position of responsibilty towards you.  Honestly, you’re right:  all things considered, men who are a decade or more your senior will likely be able to offer you things that your male peers cannot.  You’re not wrong to want those things, and I don’t think that all older men will be "bad" for wanting to give them to you.  Yes, I’ve seen a few — a very few but a few — healthy, loving, supportive relationships between young women just about your age and men substantially older.  Such relationships are rare, but not unheard of. 

Kate, I don’t know you.  But I can tell you I’ve known a few young women who’ve said things very similar to what you’ve said.   And I know that in the end, what many of them really wanted from older men was not a sexual or romantic relationship, but validation and recognition and attention.  In our highly sexualized culture, however, they couldn’t believe that a man would really love them and care for them unconditionally unless they could offer him something sexual or romantic in return.  They shortchanged themselves, and sadly, they found older men who reinforced the notion that their sexuality was the most valuable thing they had to offer.  I don’t know if that’s what’s going on with you.

Adults always tell teens to be patient, and teens get tired of hearing it.  But if I can give you a piece of advice, it is to be patient just a while longer.  Let whatever boundaries you have in place that have served you well stay in place just a little bit longer.  Keep those boundaries in place especially with the men who have a sworn (even sacred) responsibility to care for you as your teachers and mentors.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting.  But there’s much to be gained by waiting, just a little longer, before "taking the next step" with anyone, especially someone considerably older than yourself.  Once you become a legal adult, and (perhaps) are in college, you will begin to meet many different men who will be unlike those you knew in high school.  You might even find someone closer to your age who does share your interests and your passions.  Stranger things have happened.

I wish I had a magic bullet to make this growing up process easier for you.  I know it’s frustrating and confusing as hell.  But it’s my hope that the older men in your life today will continue to be loving, wise guides through that process, and at your age, that’s all that they ought to be.

Please take care.

Hurrah for Antonio

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The first post of the day is simply a quick rejoicing in the election of Antonio Villaraigosa as the new mayor of Los Angeles.  Even living in Pasadena, I think of myself as, in some sense, an Angeleno, and I follow the "big city’s" politics closely.   I’ve been a fan of his for many years, since he first (as a junior state assemblyman) pushed a bill through the legislature guaranteeing the rights of mothers to breastfeed in public.  (His oldest daughter was a student in my women’s history class at the time, and she made darned sure we all knew about her father’s passionate pro-feminism).  I’ve also been enchanted by his name, a blend of his given surname (Villar) and his wife’s (Raigosa).  It’s a rare man, particularly from the mean streets of East Los Angeles, who would have the courage to create a new name with his spouse. 

Above all, Antonio Villaraigosa has a reputation as a devoted supporter of both public and private-sector organized labor, and that bodes well for the future of the working and middle classes in Los Angeles.

Power and Orgasms, two links

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First off, two excellent links:

Amp at Alas, A Blog has a terrific post up on sexual attraction and power; he’s got 111 comments (as of this morning), many of them very thoughtful indeed.

I wish I had had access to this post from Lauren on the female orgasm to use in the very friendly debate I — and others — had with Camassia over sexuality and reproductivity.  Lauren’s post was inspired by a new book by Dr. Elisabeth Lloyd  of Indiana Bloomington: The Case of the Female Orgasm: Bias in the Science of Evolution.  Lloyd’s book (reviewed in today’s New York Times) suggests that we’ve been wrong to believe that the female orgasm has an evolutionary or reproductive function.  (She apparently demolishes all the old theories, such as the one that suggests that orgasmic contractions help propel sperm towards the egg.) The Times review:

(Dr. Lloyd believes) female orgasms are simply artifacts – a byproduct of the parallel development of male and female embryos in the first eight or nine weeks of life.

In that early period, the nerve and tissue pathways are laid down for various reflexes, including the orgasm, Dr. Lloyd said. As development progresses, male hormones saturate the embryo, and sexuality is defined.

In boys, the penis develops, along with the potential to have orgasms and ejaculate, while "females get the nerve pathways for orgasm by initially having the same body plan."

Nipples in men are similarly vestigial, Dr. Lloyd pointed out.

While nipples in woman serve a purpose, male nipples appear to be simply left over from the initial stage of embryonic development.

The female orgasm, she said, "is for fun."

I’ll have to read the whole thing, but as someone who is always uncomfortable with using "arguments from design" in discussions about sexual ethics, Dr. Lloyd’s book sounds promising. 

But now that she’s got me thinking about it, those who reject evolution and embrace design have some ‘splainin to do about the male nipple.  And frankly, I could do without my nipples.  I had them pierced for many years, and though the piercings came out more than five years ago, my nipples are still scarred.  I enjoyed shocking people with them, but can’t say they gave me much delight, especially as a marathoner. I can’t tell you how often I’ve had bloody nipples on long runs.  Thank God for these.

Men and numbness

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In my men and masculinity class, we’re making our way through Robert Bly’s maddening, difficult, and challenging Iron John.  Though the book is not nearly as celebrated as it was in the early 1990s (when it became an essential text of at least one wing of the men’s movement), it still is a useful introduction to thinking about men and "men’s work" on psychological, cultural, and spiritual levels.

It’s difficult, with a class that is heavily female, to keep the discussions about Bly from taking on an Oprah-esque quality.  As we read through Bly’s account of the various stages of male growth, it’s important that both male and female students feel comfortable sharing their own responses (and their own stories) that are triggered by the readings.  Where it gets problematic is when some want to use Bly — or the class — as a forum for relationship advice. I admit that I play a part in that (sometimes, I have talk-show host fantasies), and sometimes, I think allowing the class to discuss romantic relationships is an ideal way to help them connect the material to their own lives.

In my favorite chapter of Iron John which we talked about today (chapter four, for those who know the book), Bly talks about the phenomenon of "numbness":

In high school, a girl might ask "Do you love me?"  I couldn’t answer.  If I asked her the same question, she might reply "Well, I respect you, and I admire you, and I’m fond of you, and I’m even interested in you, but I don’t love you.  Apparently when she looked into her chest, she saw a whole spectrum of affections, a whole procession of feelings, and she could easily tell them all apart.  If I looked into my chest, I saw nothing at all.  I had then either to remain silent or fake it.

Some women feel hurt when a man will not "express his feelings", and they conclude that he is holding back, or "telling them something" by such withholding; but it’s more likely that when such a man asks a question of his chest, he gets no answer at all.

When I first read Bly, more than a decade ago, those two paragraphs made me shudder with emotion and recognition.  "My God", I thought, "that’s me.  I thought I was the only one."  Throughout my teen years and beyond, up until very recently, I struggled with that same numbness.  Like Bly, when asked how I felt (as opposed to being asked what I thought or what I wanted), I would either "remain silent or fake it."  Given my generally extroverted personality, I became skilled at faking it.  I learned what other folks, especially the women in my life, wanted me to be feeling — and so I reported what I hoped was appropriate.  (This explains why I got married so often, actually.  I may not have always known what I was feeling, but I was very attracted to the certainty of the women who became my wives.  They knew how they felt about me, and I let that be enough.)

I write about this because I’ve seen so many of my male students (and the boys I work with in youth group) respond as I did, with the "My God, I thought I was the only one."  It’s not that we’re all icy sociopaths, far from it.  It’s that I — and so many of the men I’ve known — grew up lacking any authentic kind of emotional vocabulary for their inner terrain.  As Bly puts it:

My head was fiery and full of blood, and my genitals were fiery and curious too.  The area in between was the problem.

I’ve read that sentence aloud in a lot of groups, and seen many a flash of recognition pass over the face of many a young man (and, to be fair, a few young women too, though that recognition is usually, not always, for the men in their lives.)   I know full well it hasn’t been all men’s experience; many younger guys I know claim (perhaps rightly) that they are as in touch with their emotions as any woman.  But they are few, a privileged few at that, and I’m convinced that exploring this numbness is one of the most vital roles of the men’s movement.

It was other men, not women, who helped me to overcome this "numbness" and to begin the hard work of stopping the habit of "faking it."  I have found that even now, it’s with other men that I do my best work of finding out what I really feel.  That defensive numbness that began before I can remember began to wear off when I began to hang out more and more with other men who had done the work of learning to feel.  And because I was so good at telling the women in my life what I thought they wanted to hear about my feelings, I needed to learn to first tell the truth to men who would not be wounded or upset when they learned what was really going on inside of me.

With the boys in my youth group, my goal is an explicit one — helping those who are numb to be less so by providing a safe, (occasionally) all-male environment in which to talk openly.  It’s a slow process, but an immensely rewarding one.  With my college students, it’s not as prescriptive.  But I am trying to introduce them to the various goals of men’s work, and overcoming numbness surely ranks as one of the big ones.

I’ll be 38 on Sunday.  Even after years of "men’s work" and therapy and small groups and journaling and retreats and oodles of prayer, I still struggle with numbness.  Even with my fiancee now, I sometimes feel bereft of an adequate emotional vocabulary.  But I know enough now to know that those around me are not wrong for wanting me to share my genuine emotions, and I’m not a bad person because my truest feelings often seem so elusive.  As Bly says,

Some of that numbness is gone now.  I can answer questions about my feelings, and I can see people down there with different colored robes, walking around, and I can tell one from the other.

But there are still more down there whom I’ve not yet seen.

Confirmation report

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It’s a busy Monday morning and I’m finally back in the office — fighting an oncoming cold to boot.  I’m also still suffering from the after-effects of a long run on Friday, done in the hills near my family’s home on Mission Peak. I ran too late in the morning (after it had gotten quite warm), and went through all my water too quickly.  I ran the last hour or so with no water at all in eighty-degree temperatures, and felt quite poorly at the end.  My muscles are still sore as a result — inadequate hydration means a much longer recovery time.  All is still on track, Lord willing, for the San Diego marathon on June 5.

Saturday morning, Bishop Jon Bruno confirmed about a dozen of our "Seekers" kids at All Saints Pasadena.  The good bishop had had his foot amputated in late March, but is making excellent progress.  He’s not able to stand for long periods yet, and so he gave his sermon — and confirmed our youth — while sitting on his splendid bronze stool.  (The seat of the stool is from the tractor that the young Jon Bruno used to drive on his grandfather’s farm.)

Jon gathered with the confirmands, their faith partners, clergy, and youth workers before the service.  He told the kids a bit about what the service of confirmation would be like, and invited them to ask last-minute questions. He also talked at length about what he believes confirmation to be.  Jon told us that he sees confirmation not only as a commissioning for life of Christian service (which it is), but also for a life of seeing Christ in other people, particularly in the faces of those with whom one disagrees. 

It was similar to what he told us last year, only with a considerable addition.  Since he confirmed our Seekers Class of 2004, Bishop Bruno has presided at a same-sex blessing (becoming the first bishop in the Anglican Communion to do so) and witnessed the subsequent attempted break-away of three conservative parishes within the diocese of Los Angeles.  To put it mildly, since he last spoke to our youth, Jon has not only lost a foot, he’s made a lot more enemies.  The bishop spoke plainly of his own struggle to always see Christ in the face of those with whom he disagrees; he referred in particular to the priests of the break-away parishes and those in the larger church who are backing their actions.  He reminded our kids that standing up for inclusion, which he called (I hope rightly) standing up for Christ, has a cost. Confirmation, he said, is the mature acceptance of the reality that struggling for God’s justice may come at a high price to you personally.   The teens listened raptly.  (Parenthetically, it’s a staple of youth work in liberal and conservative churches alike to emphasize the essentially counter-cultural nature of a life of faith. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how absolutely everyone in this great fight over same-sex unions and inclusion perceives themselves as fighting for the rights of an oppressed minority, and doing so in the face of misunderstanding, anger, and retribution!)

One of our adult faith partners asked Jon about his recent decision to refrain from blessing more same-sex unions.  (I know that a number of folks here at All Saints were quite disappointed in that decision).  The bishop explained that he still believed in the validity of such blessings, and that he would continue to urge diocesan clergy to bless same-sex unions when pastorally appropriate.  But he himself would refrain, he said, for the foreseeable future, as an act of penance.  Bishop Bruno explained that he’s holding back as penance for the divisions within the church (not that he’s taking blame for causing those divisions!)   Jon also spoke of the importance of reaching out as a bishop to conservative Episcopalians, and to traditionalist Christians of other denominations; he believes that continuing to bless same-sex unions might be an unnecessary obstacle to fruitful encounters with our brothers and sisters on the right.  He stressed again that he did not regret having blessed such a union, and that he hoped for the day when such unions would be accepted by both church and state without question or discussion. Until then, Jon wants to journey hopefully with those on all sides of the issue, recognizing that his personal decision not to bless any more unions will be something of a disappointment to the most ardent supporters of full inclusion.

It was a great service.  I loved watching the emotion on the faces of my kids as Jon laid his massive hands on their heads. But oh, sometimes, I wince at the modern hymns we sing!  We sang two of my favorite tunes on Saturday; Azmon and Hyfrydol, but not with the traditional "O, For a Thousand Tongues to Sing" and "Alleluia, Sing to Jesus" respectively.  (I adore both).  Instead, we get rather hopeless modern lyrics. I can’t find what we sang to Azmon at the moment, but here’s a link to the text of our closing hymn sung to Hyfrydol compared to the original.  The first two verses of Ruth Duck’s version:

1. As a fire is meant for burning
with a bright and warming flame,
so the church is meant for mission,
giving glory to God’s name.  Not to preach our creeds or customs,
but to build a bridge of care,
we join hands across the nations,
finding neighbors everywhere.

2. We are learners; we are teachers;
we are pilgrims on the way.
We are seekers; we are givers;
we are vessels made of clay.
By our gentle loving actions, we would show that Christ is light.
in a humble, listening spirit, we would live to God’s delight.

Maybe I’ve got too much testosterone, or I’ve still got an evangelical side to me, but that just makes me wince.  And the "not to preach our creeds" bit doesn’t sit well with me either.  Oh well.  It’s a terrific tune, and Jon Bruno can still belt it out, even on one foot.